Turning pain into power and wounds into wisdom

Welcome

This space extends the themes explored in I’m Not My Story: A Poetic Journey of Healing.

Here I write about healing, resilience, and the careful rebuilding of inner safety.

These essays explore reclaiming identity, restoring dignity, and rebuilding trust — in oneself, in others, and in life.

Featured Essays


  • For much of my life, I tied my worth to pleasing others. Helping and being needed became the only way I felt acceptable, even while I silently battled feelings of inadequacy. In The Need to Please, I give voice to that struggle, and in Finding My Worth Despite My Past, I reflect on the roots of my people-pleasing tendencies and the journey toward reclaiming my sense of self with compassion.

    The Need to Please

    Caught in a cycle
    of needing to please
    my own desires
    left unappeased.

    Supporting others
    I justified my worth
    seeking validation
    through selfless work.

    I suffered from
    low self-esteem
    it was only when giving
    that I felt redeemed.

    But the ache inside
    burned like a flame
    a deep longing
    I couldn’t name.

    Finding My Worth Despite My Past

    I remember being in primary school when the teacher said, “What do your parents do? Tell us about your family.” Listening to the other students talk about their families, I became acutely aware that their lives were different from mine.

    I remember it like it was yesterday: the cold chill that ran through my body, the tears I swallowed, and the butterflies in my stomach. From that day, the gulf between me, the other students, and the world grew suffocatingly wide. The double life of my childhood left me feeling inadequate, leading to conclusions like, “I’m not good enough,” “I’m not like other people,” and “I don’t fit in.”

    Over time, I grew into a self-conscious, insecure people-pleaser, always prioritizing others’ needs over my own. Writing The Need to Please helped me see that I had been conditioned from childhood to be endlessly available to others. I also had to face the reality that my sense of self was deeply compromised. Despite my determination to live differently, I still carried the patterns of my past.

    Reflecting on what my spiritual teacher once explained, I realized that seeking acceptance and belonging is a universal human desire. He used to say, “If I had been raised in the same household, had the same experiences, and my mind worked the same way yours does—if all the variables were the same—I would think, feel, and behave in exactly the same way you do.” Swamiji’s compassion made me feel seen, understood, and comforted.

    As survivors, we often judge ourselves harshly for how we think, feel, and act. But childhood abuse leaves deep and lasting imprints. Avoiding self-judgment and embracing compassion isn’t just helpful—it’s essential to healing.

    Despite your story, you deserve your own understanding, kindness, and compassion. Embrace your journey with gentleness.



  • Poetry evokes emotion, stirs memory, and offers healing in ways that often defy explanation. It bypasses logic and touches something deeper—something quieter.

    For me, writing poetry has never been just about art. It has been a way to heal, to grow, to understand myself and the world around me. Poetry has been a faithful companion—a sanctuary where I can be raw, honest, and vulnerable. When I write, I feel aligned with my inner being—free to express what was once held in silence, without censoring my words.

    Over time, I’ve come to understand that vulnerability is not a weakness, but a way of reaching the most resilient part of myself. In giving voice to what is real for me, others have sometimes found something familiar in those lines. And in that shared recognition, I am not alone.

    When I began writing my collection, I thought I was simply telling my story. But the poems did more than narrate—they became a mirror, reflecting parts of myself I hadn’t yet learned to meet with compassion. Some lines arrived with tears. Others with peace. But each one brought me closer to healing.

    I’ve come to understand that healing doesn’t always mean mending what’s broken. Sometimes, it means sitting beside what hurts and offering it tenderness. In writing, I reclaimed parts of myself—my voice, my story, and my inner ground.

    Somewhere along the way, I came to see something simple but profound: words have the power to heal.

    Poetry didn’t fix me. It helped me remember I was never broken.



  • Sometimes, we meet people who become lighthouses in our lives—guiding us through the stormy seas of struggle and despair. Their presence, wisdom, and care remind us that even in our darkest moments, we are not alone.

    For me, that guiding light was Swami Dayananda Saraswati. His calm, steady support helped me feel safe enough to begin my healing journey.

    This poem, A Song of Gratitude, is my heartfelt tribute to him—a reflection of the profound impact he had on my life.

    A Song of Gratitude

    I came to study Vedanta
    wanting to be free
    and when my heart was breaking
    you stood by me.

    I had never met anyone
    so honest, so kind
    your compassion and care
    restored my mind.

    Even when I was at my worst
    you were calm and clear
    your patience and wisdom
    lessened my fears.

    No matter the distance
    you took my calls
    offering your support
    each time I’d fall.

    I was plagued by doubt
    drowning in despair
    and you revealed my worth
    with such tender care.

    You broke down my walls
    taught me to listen
    helped me to grow
    to trust my intuition.

    Oh, how I wish
    you were still here to see
    the freedom and joy
    that now lives in me.

    Thank you, Swamiji
    for the gift you gave
    your wisdom and guidance
    helped me to be brave.

    You believed in me
    when I couldn’t find my way...
    because of you
    I cherish who I am today.

    The Gift of Support

    Swamiji’s ability to see the best in me—even when I couldn’t see it in myself—is something I will cherish forever. His unwavering belief in my strength helped me to grow into it.

    Healing is never a solo journey. There are moments when healing comes not from loud breakthroughs, but from the steady presence of someone who sees our worth and gently reminds us of it.

    If someone has stood beside you during your own storms, you may choose to hold their impact quietly in your heart. Gratitude, when expressed or simply remembered, has a way of softening even the hardest places.

    Sometimes, just remembering that someone cared is enough to keep going.



  • Every journey of healing is marked by moments of darkness and light. In the poem Unbroken Spirit, I reflect on my own passage through immense hardship toward discovering my voice. The prose piece, Breaking the Silence, shares the life-changing moment when I finally told my story — and the freedom that came with it.

    Unbroken Spirit

    In shadows deep
    silence emanates
    a heart-wrenching grief
    hard to penetrate.

    A childhood stolen
    innocence betrayed
    yet my spirit
    refused to be caged.

    Sold and abused
    stripped of my rights
    despite it all
    I reached for new heights.

    Refusing to be like them
    or mirror their pain
    I reclaimed my life
    I broke every chain.

    Finding a part of myself
    untouched by the abuse
    turning wounds into wisdom
    I paid my dues.

    Sharing my story
    no longer constrained
    I hope to inspire others
    to rise above their pain.

    Breaking the Silence

    I was watching television with my dear friend, who had just been diagnosed with cancer. She loves action films, cooking shows, and singing competitions, so we settled on American Idol. During the show, one of the contestants said, “Everyone has a story; you just have to be a survivor of your story.”

    This simple but profound statement struck a chord deep within me and changed my life.

    Reflecting on that moment, I realize it was my friend’s courage — paired with those words — that empowered me to break my silence. After 50 years of friendship, I told her my secret: a truth I had kept hidden from her and from most everyone I knew. I am a survivor of sexual abuse, and I was sold as a child.

    I couldn’t believe how much lighter I felt after speaking those words aloud. It was as if a tremendous weight had finally lifted. That night, for the first time in years, I slept soundly.

    The next morning, words of a poem began to form — verses that would eventually grow into my collection, I’m Not My Story: A Poetic Journey of Healing.

    Breaking my silence has been a profoundly liberating experience. I now know that I am not my story. I am not defined by my past; being a survivor of childhood sexual abuse is one part of my journey, not the whole of who I am. Embracing my story allowed me to reclaim my worth and recognize my resilience.

    If I had known how freeing it would be, I would have spoken out years ago

    You are more than your story. Embrace your journey and find strength in speaking your truth.